


Girls and Goddesses

by Arlene0401



Series: Tumblr drabbles and oneshots 2016 [15]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confessions, F/F, Fluff, Intoxication, Mikasa is an obnoxious drunk, Nakedness, Sasha is kickass, Sharing a Bed, background Connie x Reiner, mention of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlene0401/pseuds/Arlene0401
Summary: Sasha has always admired Mikasa, putting her up on a pedestal like a deity. Until she finds her drunken and snoring in her bed. Which somehow makes Mikasa all the more loveable.





	Girls and Goddesses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noero/gifts).



> noero requested mikasasha with the prompt: "Is there a reason you´re naked in my bed?"  
> This was the first time for me writing a f/f pairing and I had so much fun. Bless you for this prompt.

Sasha´s yawn threatened to split her face while the elevator carried her up to the fifth floor at snail pace. Nights like these showed her she wasn't 18 anymore, and she was glad she hadn't drunk any alcohol to top it off. Otherwise, she suspected, she would be in the land of the walking dead for the next two days. Staring down at the slightly limp bouquet in her hand, she couldn't help the little twinge of nostalgia and dejection.

 

Bridesmaid. Again, a bridesmaid.

 

Sasha was popular as bridesmaid. She was pretty, social, good-natured, and behind her slightly goofy facade had a lot of common sense and organizational skills. She could humour bridezillas and their rampant mothers, determinedly wrangle hip flasks from tipsy grooms, charm ill-treated aunties, and rock the dancefloor.

 

This time, she had even made it to be maid of honor. As to be expected when your closest childhood friend married. Connie Braun, nee Connie Springer, and his husband Reiner were probably halfway across the Atlantic for their honeymoon now. Sasha had been in charge of supervising the rest of the party, and shooing the last drunkards to their hotel rooms when the staff pointedly started cleaning up the ballroom.

 

The bell chimed softly, announcing that the wheezing elevator had decided not to crap out on her, and once on the carpeted hallway Sasha pulled the high-heeled sandals from her aching feet. She hissed as the sinews in her legs were forced to stretch, and slowly hobbled to no. 512.  _ Just once _ , she told herself. J _ ust once, I won't bother with showering and removing makeup, and please Mother Nature don’t chasten me with wrinkles, thank you. I promise I will make up for it tomorrow with a full-on spa treatment _ .

 

She pulled the keycard from her purse and frowned. Her door stood slightly ajar, and as she looked closer she noticed the lock was broken. Who the fuck breaks into a hotel room in the middle of the night? Luckily, she only had a change of clothes with here, nothing of value.

 

Cautiously, she pushed the door open a little wider. Inside, the lights were on. Weirder and weirder. Dropping the flowers, and clutching her purse and sandals like weapons, she moved stealthily inside, the thick carpet swallowing the movement of her bare feet. Sasha wasn't really concerned for her safety - in fact she was capable of bringing down just about any thug with a Q-Tip and a slice of ham, let alone stiletto heels and a hard, heavy purse. Screw that - she could bring them down with her bare hands, knees, elbows and teeth. Regularly working out at a dojo definitely had its perks, although her skills at fighting dirty stemmed from being one of the few girls in a children´s gang, with a rivaling gang just around the corner. Funnily, the other gang had been led by Reiner, and Connie had been half throttled in the blond giant´s armpit more times than Sasha could recount.

 

Whoever had entered was still there - lying on the bed and snoring loudly. Around the corner, she could make out a pair of bare legs. Sasha debated whether she should call the reception desk, but first she wanted to see who would break into a hotel room and then sleep there.

 

It was Mikasa.

 

Mikasa, sprawled out on her back, arms and legs thrown wide, mouth hanging open in a drunken stupor.

 

Mikasa, sprawled out on her back, on Sasha's bed, naked. As in, butt naked. As in, not a single thread covering her body.

 

Sasha couldn't help it. She ogled, eyes wide. She was friends with the black-haired woman since high school, always admiring her quiet self-confidence and intelligence, as well as her unconscious elegance. Mikasa had introduced Sasha to martial arts, and practised in the same dojo. Unlike Sasha, who always put a lot of effort into her makeup and outfits, Mikasa mostly dressed in plain slacks and shirts, but attracted a lot of gazes nonetheless.

 

It was, as expected, a magnificent view, just like Sasha had imagined from the glimpses she had caught of sweat-slick muscles stretching and flexing underneath soaked workout gear. Of collarbones peeking over the neckline of shirts, of firm legs moving elegantly in cropped shorts. Mikasa naked was a vision that Sasha had conjured up in many sleepless nights and overly long shower sessions. 

 

Now it was all laid bare for Sasha to see, all the things she had only come to imagine - the cream-colored skin on the insides of her thighs, so infinitely soft. Small, firm breasts with perfectly shaped, dusty pink nipples. The dark triangle - Sasha looked away, suddenly feeling guilty. It would have been okay to stare if Mikasa was awake, and agreeing, but it was an intrusion on her privacy to exploit her defenseless state.

 

Even though - Sasha frowned again - Mikasa  _ had  _ crawled naked into her bed, for whatever reason. She grabbed a blanket from the closet and threw it over the limp body, then nudged her shoulder.

 

“Mikasa.”

 

Snoring.

 

“Mikasa.” Slightly louder.

 

A groan and an ugly gurgle. Sasha had to giggle - that Mikasa, who was always so calm and dignified, could make such awful sounds, was hilarious. She had seen Mikasa drunk before, of course, and had been delighted at how outgoing and touchy-feely the woman became, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought that Mikasa, of all people, was capable of drooling into her pillow and snoring like a drowning rhino.

 

“Hey, Mikasa. Wake up.” She shook her harder now.

 

“Hnn?” Finally, bloodshot eyes squinted up at her under a mob of black, tousled hair. “Sasha? Whatcha doing here? Lemme sleep.” She curled up on her side, intent on going to sleep again, but Sasha shook her again.

 

“Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?” she investigated.

 

“What you talkin´ about? ´S my bed. Fuck off.”

 

“No, Mikasa. This is my bed, and my room. What room number do you have?”

 

Mikasa blinked, trying to focus, and Sasha could almost see the gears ticking and squeaking tiredly in her sleep and alcohol addled brain. “521.”

 

“See, this is 512.”

 

“Oh.” Mikasa yawned. “That´s why the key didn't work. Had to kick the door in. Figures.” She yawned again and turned to the other side, tucking the blanket over her head.

 

Sasha felt hysteria crawling up on her. She was dizzy with fatigue, her room door was smashed, and Mikasa was hogging her bed.

 

“But Mikasa”, she whined. “You can´t sleep here -  _ we _ can´t sleep here, the lock is broken, it's not safe.” She pondered for a second. Then she picked up Mikasa´s tuxedo from the floor and rummaged through the pockets. She found her key card and pulled at Mikasa´s arm.

 

“Come on, girl, get going. We're sleeping in your room. Come  _ on  _ \- I'm not carrying your drunken ass.”

 

Moaning and grumbling, Mikasa obeyed, stumbling against Sasha as she stood up, and it nearly knocked the wind out of the brunette. Simply  _ seeing  _ Mikasa naked as already more than she could handle, but having her body press up against her and feeling her nuzzle into her neck nearly made her brain short-circuit, and for a second she feared she would pee herself.

 

Sasha took a deep breath and gripped Mikasa´s shoulders ( _ don't think about you´re touching her naked skin don´t think about it _ ) and held her at arm's length to stabilize her, then she wrapped her up in the blanket burrito-style.

 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted in these small hours, so no one saw the barefooted, disheveled brunette in the party dress leading a stumbling and softly complaining pile of bedding. Once safely in Mikasa's room, Sasha locked the door, clawed her dress off and as many of the hairpins out of her dissolving bun as her haphazard search produced. Then she shoved the already snoring Mikasa aside and flopped on the bed.

 

She awoke seemingly only minutes later, with the sun glaring too brightly into her eyes and someone poking her cheek.

 

“Sasha. Hey, Sasha. Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?”

 

She went rigid with shock, then sat bolt upright. Mikasa sat cross-legged, blanket wrapped protectively around her, looking terribly hungover.

 

“First of all, I'm not naked”, Sasha said defensively. She was still in panties and bra, after all. “And second, don't you remember why I'm here?”

 

Mikasa went impossibly paler. “Wait… no… did we…?” she stammered, and Sasha blinked at her in confusion. Then it dawned on her.

 

“No, Mikasa, we didn't.”  _ Not that I didn't want, but not with you drunk out of your mind _ , she added silently. The relieved look on Mikasa's face pained her.

 

“Oh, thank goodness. Because that's not how I wanted it to happen.”

 

Sasha´s heart stopped beating. “Come again?”

 

Mikasa grinned sheepishly, and - was that a blush crossing her face? Sweet lord, it was.

 

“Yeah, I.. um… I´m glad I didn't fuck up. I mean, I was trying to muster up the courage to confess to you, because I like you, a lot, and I would hate it if… if I couldn't even remember our first time.” She blushed harder and fiddled with the blanket.

 

Sasha laughed breathlessly. “You.. you like me? And  _ you  _ didn't have the courage to confess?”

 

Mikasa nodded, a tiny smirk tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you're always so perfect, popular, immaculately styled… and then I wake up to you looking like a racoon with mascara smeared all over your face and your lipstick on the pillow. I like it. Makes you less like a goddess and more like a human.”

 

“And you are an awful drunk and snore like an asthmatic hog. Makes  _ you _ less like a goddess and more like a human.”

 

Over the tiny dust motes dancing slowly in the sunshine, they smiled at each other, two crumbled ruins left over from last night, and their fingers inched closer to thread into each other.

 

“I’m no goddess. I drink milk from the carton”, Sasha confessed.

 

“I put off the washing until I’m down to my granny panties”, Mikasa retorted.

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes. “I have Taylor Swift on my playlist.”

 

“Ouch.” Mikasa laughed. Then she leaned forward with a devilish glint in her eyes. “Snooki and JWoww.”

 

“Oh my god.” Sasha fell back, laughing. “Okay, I can’t beat that.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “So, you reckon we can become more human together and not get grossed out?”

 

Five minutes later they were in the bathroom. “Okayy”, Sasha drawled. “When considering what would be my first duty as girlfriend I wouldn’t have set on holding your hair while you throw up, but I’d say it can only go up from here, hm?”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my SNK and personal blog under [glassesgirl0401](http://glassesgirl0401.tumblr.com)


End file.
